


No one wants a broken toy.

by selfmanic



Series: Head Cannon - Clint Barton [12]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Clint Needs a Hug, Dom/sub, Dominant Natasha Romanov, Dominant Phil Coulson, Dominant Steve Rogers, Dominant Tony Stark, Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Submissive Clint Barton, Submissive Pepper Potts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfmanic/pseuds/selfmanic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is a submissive who's been beaten down by too many dominants to trust them with his care. This is how he relearns to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ch. 1

#  Chapter 1

 

                Clint hung from the chains swaying even as they lowered him to his knees; he was too out of it to fight back at this point any way. He’d been captured three days ago on a standard surveillance mission for Shield and spent the time since being drugged and questioned with increasing violence. They’d been treating him like a submissive, collaring him and trying to use drugs to put him into a drop or down in sub-space, pity he was too well trained.

                He wasn’t sure if the assholes knew he was a submissive or were just hoping he’d eventually crack out of sheer shame. He’d gone through six months of training with Shield and allowed them to force him into sub-space just to show how unresponsive he really was when he went down. No submissive was allowed out in the field if they would talk while in sub-space.

                They injected him with the next couple waiting syringes and he lost a bit of time. When he blinked himself back the leader was in his face barking demands. Clint gave him a dazed smile and a “No, Sir.” That earned him a brisk caning along his shoulders and back before the door was blown in.

                Clint watched muzzily as the guards and their leader went down in a barrage of well-placed shots from the two agents at the door. Seconds later his arms were being lowered and he was leaning against a firm pair of legs wrapped in expensive material, Coulson.

“Alright there, Agent Barton?” Agent Coulson asked squatting down and eyeing the track marks and bruises covering Clint’s arms.

“Drugged down, Sir.” Clint bit out forcing his head up when it wanted to list; he needed to stay up until they were safe.

“Can you stay up?”

“Yes, Sir.” He slurred blinking as the lights were turned on fully.

“Good, hold on while we get you some clothes.”

“Yes, Sir.” Clint agreed easily, settling back on his heels.

                He’d gone down a few times for Coulson over the years, he was the only one besides his monthly scheduled dominant who were allowed to drop him. Clint shivered again as he watched Coulson move to the other side of the room to deal with the agent at the door. He slid under too easily for Coulson most of the time anyway, he’d been the one to drop him as part of his assessment and Clint had blinked out of the down hours later being hand fed by the agent, something he never allowed normally.

He could feel himself drifting into sub-space and shivered as he fought against the need to let go. Sir wanted him up. If Sir wanted him to stay up, then he would do whatever Sir wanted. He watched the others move around him in a daze, ignoring the other speakers unless it was Sir.

“Come on, Barton. Let’s get you dressed.” Phil urged helping the shorter man up and into a pair of coveralls and boots that another agent brought in.

“Ready to move out, Barton?” he asked once Clint was dressed, shifting back so that he couldn’t lean against his side.

“Yes, Sir.”

“On my six, Agent Barton.”

“Sir.” Clint sighed, gripping his hands behind his back as he walked behind and just to the left of his handler.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to walk him out? I mean the medical team can bring in a stretcher.” Another agent asked softly watching Clint stumble along.

“He’s already close to dropping.” Coulson said with a frown, “I’d rather give him something he can do so he doesn’t go straight into a drop once he starts coming off the drugs.”

“I didn’t even know he was a Sub.”

“That’s the point. He’s one of the best agents Shield has, it shouldn’t matter what his designation is.”

 

                The team crowded forward as soon as Clint entered the plane, happy to see their archer recovered. They watched in shock however as the man ignored them completely, following behind Coulson and siting where ordered without a word. Natasha took in her partner’s state before gathering several blankets and setting them to one side of Clint.

“They drugged him down?” she asked watching Clint’s lack of reaction.

“Yes, until he comes up we won’t be able to get much of a report.”

“Wait, Clint’s a Sub? How the hell did we not know that?” Tony demanded as Coulson got Clint to pull off the coverall so that the medic could start patching him up and put in an IV.  
“What does it matter? He’d still be the best shot in the world even without his designation.” Natasha pointed out, pulling a blanket over Clint’s lap.

“What if he dropped on a mission? Or if one of us needed to drop him?” Steve asked uneasily, in his era submissives had been banned from joining any military force unless they were part of the medical corps.

“Clint has issues with being dropped, the only reason he dropped now was because of the drugs.”

“Subs talk when they’re down, it would be a liability in the field.” Tony insisted, leaning forward and eyeing the subdued man.

“Shield trains all agents who are designated submissive against being forced down. They have to prove in a controlled drop they are able to resist questioning before they’re allowed to be field agents.”

“So they aren’t banned from joining anymore? Good.” Steve said with a nod, moving a few steps away and pulling the others with him.

“Depends on the military and what level of combat the submissive would see. Shield is rather progressive in that as long as the agent passes the training then they aren’t required to declare their designation as long as it’s correct in their file.”

“So he’s ignoring us why exactly? Most of the team’s Dominant, he should be paying attention.” Tony said with a frown tapping at his ever present phone.

“Clint only drops for two people.” Natasha said with a snort, “Coulson is one of them; he won’t acknowledge any order not coming from Coulson.”

“He’s not acknowledging you either.” Tony pointed out with a smirk.

“I’ve never tried to put him down.” She said with a shrug.

“Barton, I want you to take small sips of this. Hand it back if you feel at all sick.” Coulson said handing Clint a bottle of water and starting to help the medic wipe down his grimy upper body revealing the cuts and scrapes that the dirt covered.

“Yes, Sir.” Clint said with a sigh, sipping at the open water bottle.

                He sipped at the water while Coulson helped clean him up. They took the bottle back while they got him into a pair of clean scrubs and settled onto a stretcher along the wall. He refused any more water and let Natasha help him lie down yet his eyes followed Coulson as he moved about the cabin.

“You know he’s not going to relax until you sit down, Coulson.” Natasha snapped, “Let me deal with the rest of the crew.”

“Alright.” Coulson said with a huff handing over his tablet and the needed paperwork before stripping off his tie and jacket.

                Clint shifted as soon as he sat down so he could wrap an arm around Coulson’s waist and bury his head against one hip. Natasha raised an eyebrow and stalked back towards the cockpit when he extended a hand for his tablet. Coulson rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone to continue working.

“Seriously?” Tony asked from his seat as they started rolling, “You have a willing Sub in you lap and you’re not even going to touch him?”

“Barton’s never consented for more than basic after care and it’s not like he can consent while drugged out of his mind, Stark.”

“Are you his contracted Dominant, Agent Coulson?” Steve asked watching with a small smile as the normally distant man cuddled against the agent’s side.

“Agent Barton doesn’t have a contracted Dominant. He goes once a month to be put down by a Shield dominant as his contract with Shield demands.”

“Can he do that, I mean with such a stressful job?” Steve trailed off unsure of how to continue.

“It’s Barton’s decision if he wants a contracted Dominant or not.” Coulson said with a sigh, rubbing Clint’s shoulders for a moment and adjusting the blanket, “He does have a stressful profession but as long as he goes to his monthly sessions Shield has no reason to force him into an assigned partnership. One of his contract clauses states that he’ll never be forced into that kind of relationship or his contract with Shield is void.”

“Seriously? It’s in his contract? Why the hell would he insist on that?”

“That’s for Barton to answer.” Coulson said snatching his tablet back when Natasha wandered by, she let him and returned to her seat with only a raised eyebrow not wanting to set Clint off by being violent while he was down.

“His bloodwork is back, the drugs should be out of his system in six hours.”

“We can’t give him an antidote?”

“They used hormonal agents; he’s probably going to be off balance for months until his system resets itself.”

“When can he go back to the tower?”

“After we’ve managed to debrief and he’s cleared by medical.” Coulson said with a sigh, glancing down at the agent who was cuddled against him with a small smile tugging at his lips.


	2. Ch. 2

#  Chapter 2

 

                Word had gotten around base that the asshole archer, Clint Barton, was a Submissive and it seemed like every Dominant he’d ever pissed off was trying to force him down at every turn. It was worse than right after Loki when everyone was flinching away from him like he was diseased he thought morbidly. He eyed the approaching Doms out of the corner of one eye as he finished packing up his bow.

“Barton!” The one in the lead barked with a smirk stepping forward until his was only inches from where Clint was leaning against a table.

“Something you needed, Rose?” Clint asked finishing zipping up his bow case and turning to face the three Dominants.

“Yeah, I heard a rumor I want verified.”

“What rumor would that be?” Clint asked keeping his face blank and his tone mild and disinterested, the idiots didn’t seem to realize they were in view of three of the range cameras.

“That you went down for Loki because you’re a Sub.”

“Selvig was a dominant and he went down just as hard, Rose. Dynamic had nothing to do with it.”

“So, you are a Sub.” Rose said with a smirk stepping in to box Clint against the table.

“Not that it matters but yes, I am.” Clint said fighting the urge to snarl at the dominant in his space.

“So does the Widow Dom you on missions or is it that robot, Coulson?”

“I don’t have a dominant.”

“Seriously? If I was working with the Widow I’d have registered Sub just so she could put me down.” Edwards leered, shifting like he wanted to be the one next to Clint.

“She’s never offered.”

“Are you looking for a Dominant? Need someone to take you down with a firm hand?” Rose leered shifting forward between Clint’s legs and pressing him back against the table.

“I don’t need a Dominant, Rose, and you need to back off.” Clint said keeping his head up and eyes on the far door; security was due to run their check any minute now.

“What if I don’t want to back up, what if I want to see you on your knees?”

“Ain’t going to happen.” Clint snapped fighting back a shiver as Rose pushed him further over the table, breath hot against his neck and ear.

“Something the matter, Agent Barton?” Agent Jefferies, a neutral on the base security team asked from beside the door.

“No, Jefferies. They were just leaving.” Clint said mildly as Rose slowly back off.

“Don’t think this is over, Barton. I’ll have you on your knees for me one way or another.” Rose said under his breath.

                Clint remained silent as they wandered out. Jefferies stayed until he finished cleaning his gear and got everything put up. The range time had been to settle his scattered nerves but he was more keyed up now than when he’d left the tower. The base may be downright hostile but the tower was more nerve wracking.

                He parked his bike and tugged off his helmet with a sigh. Tony had been a constant source of stress since he’d been outed to the team. If he wasn’t offering to Dom the archer, he was offering to set him up with various celebrity Dominants or having S&M catalogs delivered with his mail. Frankly, he was close to asking Coulson if he was allowed to move out.

“Welcome back, Agent Barton.” Jarvis said politely as Clint entered the elevator.

“Afternoon, Jarvis.” Clint asked with a tired grin at the nearest sensor. “Anything blown up since I left this morning?”

“While there haven’t been any explosions yet today, Sir has yet to leave his workshop today so it is still a possibility.”

“The rest of the team in house?”

“Dr. Banner is working in his lab and has asked not to be disturbed until the world is ending. Sir has already bothered him sixteen times.”

“Figures.” Clint said with a snort as he stepped out onto his floor. “Are Natasha and Steve busy?”

“Captain Rogers has taken his bike out and said he will be available by phone if needed. Agent Romanov left on a mission with Agent Coulson late this morning.”

“Damn, I must have missed the message.” Clint said with a huff checking his phone and reading through the short text message. A new stack of Submissive porn was waiting for him on the kitchen counter he noted with a sigh, dumping the entire stack into the trash.

“Jarvis, do you think you could reroute or cancel the magazines? I really don’t need to deal with this shit right now.”

“I’m afraid Sir has banned me from altering the orders he placed unless it affects the well-being of the recipient.”

“Would mental health count?” Clint asked with a brittle laugh moving farther into the apartment and stripping out of his sweat stained clothes.

“I would suggest bringing the matter to Miss Potts, Agent Barton. She would be able to cancel the orders.”

“I’ll try and catch her tomorrow.” He said with a huff, taking off his boots and tossing them next to the wall. “Do me a favor, Jarvis and lock down my floor? No one in or out until tomorrow morning.”

“I’m afraid my rules concerning security procedures have recently been updated and I cannot comply without authorization from your current Dominant, Agent Barton.”

“Seriously?” He asked with a groan leaning against the door frame.

“I am sorry, Agent Barton. Sir completed the upgrades early this morning.”

“What else requires a dominant’s say so now?” Clint asked making up his mind and digging out a bag, he’d stay at Shield for a few weeks until Tony got off his high horse.

“A submissive must have authorization to use of any lock down protocols, access to the roof and ranges, direct orders to myself or the other systems in the tower, and access to the lab levels.”

“What do you mean direct orders?”

“I will no longer be able to place orders for needed items without a dominant’s approval of said items or do searches for information or requests beyond my own databases without permission.”

“And since Tony’s a dominant it makes sense that I’d run every request through him.” Clint said with a snort, “Pepper’s going to explode when she gets back from her trip.”

“Sir has excluded Miss Potts from the current changes.”

“Of course he has.” Clint said stuffing the last few things he’d need into his duffle and changing into a new tee shirt and jeans.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“Can I set requests to go out at certain times?” Clint asked with a small grin as he checked that he had his keys and phone.

“I do not see why it would be restricted.” Jarvis said mildly.

“Alright, I want you to ask for one item from my list of normal groceries and requested items every fifteen minutes for the rest of the day. If he refuses an item, ask him again the next day and so on until it’s approved. I also want to run searches on submissive laws on a state by state basis and compare and contrast each law between the various states on the same rotating schedule.”

“Very well, Agent Barton. How long should I continue these requests?”

“Until the submissive rules are changed in your system;” Clint said with a laugh, he couldn’t wait to tell Natasha about this.

“I shall endeavor to complete your request, Agent Barton.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.” Clint said with a small laugh heading down the stairs to the garage.

 

***

 

                Clint cursed as he fought to slow his breathing, his nightmares had gotten vicious since he’d come back from being captured. It didn’t help that most of them were him suffering at the hands of dominants. Given his history he should hate Dominants with a vengeance but he’d worked with Coulson for too long to think that they were all the same. He pushing out of bed and got dressed with a groan when he saw the time, maybe he could get some time on the range until the cafeteria opened.

                He really should have been expecting the attack from Rose and his idiots but he was trying to trust his fellow agents and not live in a constant state of readiness like he had after Loki. He got in several hard strikes before they mobbed him with sheer numbers. The pipe to the back of the head was just over kill.

                He came to bent over a table wearing only his boxers, strapped down and tied up as only Shield agents could do. They knew exactly how well he was trained and weren’t taking any chances.

“There he is.” Someone said pressing their crotch into his ass as they leaned over him, “How are you feeling, Sub. Ready to drop?”

“Fuck you.” Clint grit out, trying to move the blindfold enough to see his attackers.

“That’s ‘Fuck you, Sir.’ And we’re all going to be fucking you soon enough.”

“Shield submissives are trained to resist a forced down, you prick. Nothing you can do to me will work.”

“We’ll see about that.”

                A collar was wrapped around his neck and tightened until it was almost to the point of choking him. He was cut out of his boxers and his ass fingered and rutted against. They peppered him with praise and demands but Clint kept his responses to a curt, “Fuck off.” He’d gone through a lot worse over the years; they had nothing on his years in the circus.

He was barely conscious when they finally cut him loose and left him sometime the next morning. Clint struggled into his scattered clothes with wooden fingers not bothering to tie his boots as he stumbled back to his quarters on auto pilot. He could feel himself sliding and it took all his concentration to put one foot in front of the other until his door was shut behind him. He knew he was teetering on the edge of a bad drop but he couldn’t make himself care. He was a bad Sub, refusing Doms, he deserved this punishment.

                He staggered a few steps into the room and let himself fall to the cold metal floor curled in a ball as he passed out. He woke and slept, letting himself drift. At some point he vaguely remember weakly fighting against hands pulling him out from under his bed but it blurred into the misery that had permeated his mind. He was a bad Sub, he deserved to be punished.

                The steady beeping of monitors pulled him out of his daze at some point, making him realize he was in medical but he was still in too much of a drop to make himself really care about that fact. He watched people come and go for a while, not really recognizing anyone. The only thing he did react to was when they tried to touch him, striking out and whining under his breathe until they left him alone again.

 

***

 

“How long has he been down?” Coulson asked with a sigh taking in the glazed eyes of his agent that were fitfully tracking the people in the room.

“He didn’t show up for several appointments on Tuesday and was found midday Thursday. The last check in was arriving on base early Monday afternoon about two hours after he’d left to go to the Tower.” Natasha said, handing over a tablet with the relevant files.

“He didn’t say why he returned so quickly?”

“I interrogated Jarvis when he was reported missing.” Bruce said, fiddling with his own tablet. “He said that Tony’s been giving Clint grief about being a submissive. He changed the security access to all the floors for any submissives in residence. Clint left after finding out about the changes.”

“And since Clint’s the only submissive on the team at the moment he would be the only one inconvenienced by the changes.” Natasha said with a snort.

“Where is Stark exactly?”

“Working on some bug that got into Jarvis. He’s been at it for days now.” Bruce said with a shrug.

“So sometime between Monday night and Thursday he was attacked and forced into a drop.”

 “Do we know who attacked him yet? They said he was rather roughed up and it was too fresh to have been done during the last mission.” Steve asked shifting in his seat as he fought against his instincts to comfort the distressed Sub, he’d earned a black eye the one time he’d tried to calm the other man down.

“No, I’ve got several agents looking at footage. Once we know who attacked him I want you and Natasha to help with the interrogations.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve said with a nod, turning back to watch Clint.

“Clint doesn’t miss appointments unless he’s got a good reason. I’d say Monday night. I’ll work with the video feeds and see what I can find.” Natasha said.

“He’s been refusing any kind of touch. How does he normally react in a drop?” Bruce asked, watching the exhausted man before them.

“He’s only dropped once that I’ve seen and it was mild.” Natasha said with a frown moving to sit on the foot of the bed and watching Clint recoil away from her. “He was nervous and paced for hours refusing to let anyone near him. I’ve never seen him withdraw like this.”

“It’s fairly classic presentation for a hard sub-drop. Submissives have reported that touch is painful in a deep drop.” Bruce said watching wearily as Coulson approached the bed.

“What’s your status, Agent?” Coulson asked as he stood next to the bed, trailing one hand along the pillow to catch the submissive’s attention.

                Clint’s eyes flickered over Natasha and Coulson for a long moment before coming to rest on the hand in front of him. He watched that hand for a long moment before slowly reaching out and exploring the fingers with one trembling hand. Everyone watched his slow movements, afraid to move and send him back into the near catatonic state he’d been in.

“Sir.” Clint slurred finally retreating back into his nest of pillows against the far rail.

“What do you need, Agent?” Coulson asked waiting to see how Clint would react as Natasha moved closer as his gesture.

                Clint watched Natasha shift to lean against his leg warily but didn’t pull away. He licked his lips and settled back waiting to see what they would do next. Coulson picked up a cup of water and let Clint sip from the straw for a long moment before drawing back.

“What do you need, Agent?”

“Hurt, Sir.” Clint muttered shifting so he was curled around a pillow.

“Where?” Coulson asked, humming when Clint made a vague gesture to his shoulders. “Can I see?”

                Clint debated that for a long moment before sitting up and twisting so his back faced his handler. Sir tended to make hurts go away; he’d probably fix it for him. Most of the room winced when Coulson parted the hospital gown to reveal his black and blue back.

“Stay with Natasha for a moment. Keep her company. I’ll get something for your back.”

                Clint looked at where Natasha was sitting dubiously for a long moment before shifting to lean ever so slightly against her side. She reached out carefully and when he didn’t flinch away carded one hand through his hair. He shifted further away as soon as Coulson came back into the room with a doctor in tow.

“I don’t want to give him any IV narcotics while he’s still down. Do you think he’d allow you to apply a topical cream?”

“We can try.”

“Give me a few minutes to get everything together.”

“Thank you, Dr. Harris.”

                Ten minutes later Coulson was slowly applying a cream to Clint’s back while the rest of them looked on waiting for the explosion. Clint was leaning against Natasha but he clearly wasn’t happy about it, shifting until Coulson ordered him to be still. When it was finished and Coulson allowed him to move he retreated back to his spot against the rail.

“Do you think we could get the rest of the team to where their allowed to be around him when he’s down?” Steve asked fiddling with the book he’d been reading.

“He’s only tolerating me because Phil ordered it, Steve.” Natasha said watching as Clint shifted away slightly when she moved one hand, anticipating a blow.

“But he is tolerating you, what if he gets dropped and Coulson isn’t available? We need some kind of backup plan in case he drops or gets put down while Coulson isn’t around.”

“It’s a valid point. If our timeline is right he’s been dropped for around three days before medical found him and another day before we got back from the mission.”

“We can discuss it when he’s out of the drop but I doubt Clint will agree. He was extremely reluctant to allow anyone to put him down when he arrived at Shield.”  
“But he goes down easily for you.”

“And he avoided me for six months straight after the first time I dropped him. It terrifies him that I can get him to go down so easily.”

“So Tony’s needling,” Bruce asked softly trailing off.

“It probably had him waiting for someone on the team to try and force him down or to be kicked out of the tower.”

“And someone at Shield tried to force him down.” Steve said his expression going dark, whoever it was would be in a world of hurt once the team got a hold of them.

“Probably another Dominant agent.” Coulson said with a sigh, tugging at Clint until he was curled on his stomach against his side.

“He got a lot of flak from the Dominants after the Battle of New York, if word got around that he was actually a submissive they would have tried to force him. I’ll get you a list of the ones I know of.” Natasha said, scooping up the tablet again.

                It was late the next morning when Clint finally looked around himself pulling away from Coulson and watching as Bruce almost fell off the couch.

“Are you back with us, Agent Barton?”

“Yeah, I dropped?” Clint asked his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

“For three days, you’re going to need to let medical check you over.”

“Alright.” He agreed shifting in bed with a wince, stretching carefully.

“Care to explain the injuries you had when you were found in your bunk?” Coulson asked handing him a cup of water.

“Got jumped on the way to the range. They were trying to make me go down, got rather pissed when I didn’t.” Clint said draining the small cup and handing it back for a refill.

“You went back to your rooms to do what exactly?”

“Sleep, I think. I wasn’t thinking all that much by that point.”      

“You were already starting to drop before you reached your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I need to add a line to your Shield contract that requires you to go to medical as soon as you start to feel a drop?”

“I took a pipe to the head, Coulson, I don’t think even a standing order would have covered it at that point.”

“Fair enough.”

“Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Stark’s working to purge Jarvis of a bug and Natasha and Steve are interrogating your attackers.”

“Shit, it was in the corridor. It’s on video?”

“Only the attack and your retreat to your quarters, you defended yourself rather well.”

“They still took me down.”

“One on ten are rather hard odds even for the best agents. There are three in medical right now because of the blows you landed. They tried to pass it off as a training exercise gone wrong.”

“Stupid of them.”

“What do you need, Barton?”

“Nothing, I’m good.”

“I have a few things to take care of, I’ll be back this afternoon to sign your release papers if the doctors say you’ve been good.”

“Bribing me now, Coulson?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said with a mild smirk, “I might even let Natasha be your nurse maid for the next few days if you’re bad.”

“That’s just cruel.”


	3. Ch. 3

#  Chapter 3

 

“Are you sure we need to do this?” Clint muttered as Phil guided him out of the elevator with a firm hand.

“The team needs to be able to work with you while you’re down in case something happens. They voted and only Natasha or Steve will approach you if you’re down. I’d like to try Bruce as well in case you need medical help.”

“Stark refused?”

“I’ve already got a sub, Barton. Pepper’s not much one for sharing.” Tony said with a snort from his spot at the bar.

“Knees, Barton.” Phil said as they reached the couch.

                Clint dropped to his knees as Phil took seat. Steve was seated at the other end of the couch watching the proceedings with a frown while Natasha watched from the couch near the fireplace with Bruce.  Clint gave a huff when Phil raised an eyebrow and shifted so that he was pressed against the man’s leg with his hands behind his back. He slowly relaxed as Phil held the back of his neck, leaning forward to rest his chin against the other man’s knee.

“That’s good, Barton.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Relax, Barton, I’ve got you.”

“Yes, sir;” Clint said with a sigh, shifting so that he was leaning against the couch more than Phil.

                Slowly he relaxed into subspace with Phil reminding him that he was safe and running one hand through his hair on occasion. Once he was fully relaxed they shifted him to lean against Steve’s leg while Phil got everyone drinks. Steve stroked Clint’s hair murmuring praise and giving him small sips of iced tea and bites of the sandwich he’d prepared earlier.

                After an hour they brought Clint up with his safe word and he sat on the couch leaning against Phil until he got his head cleared. Phil had expected Clint to run like he had when they first started working together but instead he stayed, retreating to the couch a few feet away but not bolting like he’d expected.

                For the next month they dropped Clint once a week, guiding him to Steve once he was down. Phil was hoping to start working on Steve getting Clint to go into a drop without him being present but missions started back up and they were all soon too busy to spend a lot of time on anything but Shield and national security endeavors. Three weeks later they got their first taste of just how far the villains were willing to push them now that everyone’s statuses were out thanks to the media.

               

***

 

“Do we know what he got hit with?” Clint asked following Natasha into the conference room.

“No, Tony and Bruce are trying to work on the device but it looks like it forced him into a state of extreme dominance.”

“He’s already an Alpha Dominant, Nat.” Clint said with a shiver, he’d only seen a midrange dominant go into a rage once, he’d beaten his submissive to death while the rest of the circus looked on in horror.

“Which is exactly why we’re meeting,” Phil said gesturing them to the main screen. “We need to figure out a way to get him calmed down until Tony and Bruce can come up with an antidote.”

“He doesn’t have a submissive documented even before the war. Do you think he’d take a stranger down if someone offered?” Hill asked, flipping through a file.

“No one’s going to ask to be beat down by a super soldier.” Natasha pointed out.

“I could do it.” Clint said shifting uncomfortably when every eye turned to stare at him. “I’ve already dropped for him previously so he’ll probably accept me while he’s drugged.”

“He could seriously harm you in the process.” Hill pointed out with a frown.

“Can’t be worse than any of the other Doms I had before Shield.” Clint said with a shrug arms crossed over his chest, “If it gets too bad you can tranquilize him with the Hulk darts. We know they work even against the serum.”

“We could just tranq him now.” Natasha pointed out eyes trailing over Clint looking for tells.

“We already tried; he’s so hyped up on adrenaline that it’s not doing a thing. We need to get him calmed down first and only a submissive has a chance of doing that.” Phil said looking at Clint with concern, “Are you sure about this, Barton?”

“Yes, sir; I’m the only submissive we have with a chance in hell of getting close to him right now.”

“Alright, get medical to hook him up to monitor his vitals and send him in.” Hill said typing out commands on her tablet.

“The second your vitals go in the red we’re tranquilizing Rogers and getting you out.” Phil said firmly.

“Fine with me;” Clint agreed easily pushing away from the wall and following Phil to the medical bay.

                He was stickered with medical sensors and walked to the isolation ward they had Steve confined to. The sound of him wrecking the room echoed up and down the hallway. Clint took off his boots and most of his uniform, leaving him in just the pants and undershirt without any weapons.

“Ready?” Phil asked gesturing for the guard at the door to start the procedure to unseal it.

“Always, sir;” Clint said with a cocky grin, rolling his shoulders as the door unsealed with a hiss.

                He ducked through as soon as there was room letting the door clunk shut behind him. Steve turned at the sound and Clint lowered himself to his knees head bowed and arms behind his back in the most submissive posture he could take without laying on the floor. Steve stalked up to him and outright growled, fisting one hand in Clint’s hair, he braced for the blow to fall but instead he was forced lower until he was on all fours and tugged to crawl towards the bed, one of the few undamaged pieces of furniture.

                He crawled onto the bed with Steve following, pressing him down into the mattress. He could feel himself dropping and didn’t try to stop it. He needed to be down if they were going to get Steve calmed down.

A large hand ran roughly through his hair before gripping the back of his neck and giving it a light shake. Clint’s body arched in reaction, shivering as he dropped further, muscles quivering as the relaxed. Steve quickly stripped him completely not bothering to be gentle, tearing the clothes off when Clint was too slow to help. Steve stripped down to his boxers and straddle the prone archer’s hips pressing him down into the mattress with his body weight and making Clint moan as he was forced even deeper into subspace.

He was utterly limp waiting on a command from his Sir but Steve seemed determined to force him down fully, stroking along Clint’s sides and nuzzling his neck. With a few nudges he got Clint to turn over so that he could wrap one hand around his neck like a collar, marking him as owned. Clint’s chest heaved as that hold tightened.

“Who do you belong to?” Steve asked his thumb stroking down Clint’s Adam’s apple, eyes locked on Clint’s.

“You Sir,” Clint forced out, shivering as the hold tightened for a long moment before he was released.

His hands were pulled above his head and held there almost painfully tight as Steve loomed over him shifting his wrists to a single hand as the other wandered over Clint’s body. He shivered, moaning as Steve shifted his weight to rest on the hand holding Clint’s wrists. Steve took his mouth in a rough kiss, tongue exploring and teeth nipping at his lips leaving him gasping when he finally pulled away.

Clint lost himself to the press of lips and hands, giving himself over to the soft muttered praise and the occasional command. The rest of the time disappeared in a blur of sensation and praise; only snippets of sound and touch remained as he dropped deeper, leaving him limp and moaning as he was manhandled where he was needed. Time passed and he existed only to please his Sir.


	4. Ch. 4

#  Chapter 4

 

He came back to himself slowly, shifting under the sheet covering him with a groan, muscles protesting. He blinked at the medic that was creeping closer forcing himself up on his elbows to look for Steve. The dominant was being loaded onto a stretcher to one side, clearly tranquilized and being taken to medical for evaluation.

“How are you feeling, Agent Barton?”  The medic asked reaching out and checking his pulse gently in one wrist.

                Clint just blinked at her still mostly in sub space; he hauled himself upright ignoring the woman’s protests. Hand shaped bruises covered most of his body, standing out dark against his olive skin. Everything hurt but he was still floating on an endorphin high where even the pain was muted and good.

                He sat there flexing his bruised wrists and hands until Phil came in and convinced him to let the medic help him into a pair of medical scrubs and then into a wheelchair. Phil wasn’t the Sir who’d taken him so deep but he could let him lead, Phil never tried to touch without permission. He shuffled to the bed when they arrived in medical and let them x-ray most of his body and put in an IV while Phil stroked his hair. Eventually he was allowed to curl in bed with a warm blanket and drifted, riding the edge of being down and too blissed out to care.

                He slowly pulled himself upright with a groan sometime later ignoring the rest of the team moving to help as he shuffled to the bathroom, enjoying shutting the door in Bruce’s face. Once he’d used the toilet, washed his face, and rinsed his mouth out he shuffled back to the bed curling back up with a groan. He felt like one massive bruise.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” he said with a snort, “how long was I down?”

“Four days.” Natasha said pulling up the blankets to tuck him in. “You’ve been in medical about twelve more hours since the team tranquilized Steve.”

“Steve’s okay?”

“Tony and Bruce came up with an antidote late on the morning of the fourth day. Steve was tranqed and we dosed him. He came out of the sedatives an hour later with no after effects and he’s sleeping right now.” She said moving back to her chair. Clint nodded glancing around the room noting how rumbled and exhausted the team looked.

“When can I go home?”

“When the IV finishes and the doctors say you can head out,” Phil said with a snort coming through the door, “How are you feeling?”  
“Sore.” Clint said with a sigh, “Guys, go home and sleep already, I’m bruised not half dead.”

“He does have a point,” Phil said with a mild grin, “I’ll stay for a few hours with him.”

“You too, Nat;” Clint said tapping her wrist, “I’m good.”

“No dying before I get back.” She said moving to help gather up the scattered files that had accumulated around Tony and Bruce. Pepper had already collected her wayward Dom and forced him to head home and sleep once the antidote was complete.

“Yes, Ma’am;” He said with a tired smirk, watching as they all staggered out.

“Can I ask what you remember?” Phil asked once everyone had left and he took Natasha’s chair next to the bed.

“Not a lot past the first hour or so, I dropped really fast. It was like he knew every button.” Clint said with a small shiver, he hated going so deep that he lost track of what was happening around him.

“We limited who viewed the footage but everyone one on the team took shifts watching the camera feeds in case we needed to pull you out. Tony is sure to make some kind of comment later once he sleeps off the research binge, everyone else was just glad you weren’t harmed.”

“I can deal with Tony. I’ve been dealing with Tony being an ass since I moved in.” Clint said with a sigh, “Is Steve really asleep or is he avoiding me?”

“He’s trying to sleep,” Phil said with a shrug, “mostly he’s brooding over the fact he could have hurt you. You probably will have to talk to him in a few days if he’s still hiding.”

“He’s a good Dom.” Clint muttered shifting and curling around a pillow.

“He was a good Dom, he took care of you.”

“Too bad I’m a bad Sub.” Clint murmured, making Phil sigh but not restarting a fight they’d had many times over the years.

“Go to sleep, Clint. They’ll probably let you go home in the morning.”

“Okay.” Clint said with a sigh, snuggling into his nest of blankets and letting his exhaustion pull him down.

                The next morning Clint was released after eating the provided breakfast. Phil drove him back to the tower; Steve had already broken out of medical and made his way home earlier that night. Clint let himself get into a mission headspace moving easily even with the bruising in case they ran into Steve but he was missing from the common level.

                He took a long hot shower to loosen the muscles that were protesting their four days of abuse and lazed around his floor for two days letting things heal. On the third day he started back training with Natasha even if it wasn’t at their normal speed or viciousness. He retreated from the gym to work on the range for a few hours losing himself to the draw and release of his bow.

                He wore long sleeves for the first few days until the bruises started to fade but the few times he’d seen Steve in the hallways or across the building he’d looked at Clint with a sickened expression before bolting in the opposite direction. By the next Avengers mission over six weeks later they still had not said five words to each other. The mission went on a brutal twenty hours back to back with another mission that Clint had just returned from.

                Clint was utterly drained by the time the last group of homicidal robots was rounded up and their megalomaniac operators handed over to Shield. He trudged through the growing darkness over to where Steve was standing guard over the last few lab coated morons. A passing medic tossed him water and he dumped it over his head, hoping it would cool him down after a full day running across rooftops in black Kevlar.

“You should drink some of that.” Steve said with a frown as he winged the empty bottle into a trashcan across the street.

“I’ll get something at the mission review.” He said fingers checking over his bow while he glanced over the clustered Shield and police vehicles.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat. You look like your about to fall out.” Steve said once they’d handed over the last group of bad guys.

“We need to debrief.”

“We can do that in the morning. You just got back from a Shield mission before this right?”

“Transferred to a quinjet as soon as my feet hit US soil,” Clint said with a huff trailing after the larger man. “Thirteen hour flight and a ten day mission in the middle of a dessert straight to this fiasco. Not my idea of a good day.”

“You did good out there.” Steve said stopping and clasping Clint’s shoulder. “No one would have been able to tell you went in tired.”

“I’m fine,” Clint said with a snort, shrugging off the hand, “Not my first rodeo, Cap.”

“Hey, no,” Steve said grabbing the back of Clint’s neck and forcing him to look at him, “Listen to me, I appreciate you pushing yourself out there; I know we needed the help but you need to have something left at the end of the day.”

“I’m fine, Cap.” Clint said fighting not to shudder as the grip loosened, a thumb sweeping along his neck before releasing him.

“Then prove it to me, don’t kill yourself over idiots like these guys.” He said waving at a passing troop van moving the villains of the day toward prison.

“Yeah, alright;” Clint said with a nod, fighting the urge to step closer to the Dom.

“Come on, you look like you’re going to fall. Let’s get a transport and get some food in you.” Steve said tugging him close and wrapping an arm around Clint’s back in support, steering him towards the closest Quinjet.

“You aren’t hurt are you?” Steve pressed once he got Clint into a seat.

“No, I’m good, just tired.” Clint managed forcing a tired smile.

                Clint trudged along with him shivering as he fought not to drop. He didn’t even think the Dominant knew the buttons he was pushing when he man handled the smaller man into the jet and ordered the pilot to drop them at the tower. Steve forced him to eat two bowls of cereal when they arrived along with a large glass of water before making sure Clint got to his rooms.

                He blinked at the empty hallway for a long moment once Steve left before he was able to get himself moving and into the shower. He didn’t think Steve had even notice how the care and support chipped at his control forcing him closer to a submissive drop. His hands were shaking too hard when he got out to deal with anything but a pair of sweat pants.

He wandered into the living room trying to get his voice working. They had protocols if he went into a drop without a Dom there. He was supposed to tell Jarvis so he could contact someone but he couldn’t force the words out. His chest heaved as the floor seemed to fall out from under him.

He dropped to his knees and crawled to the couch, tears already blurring his vision. Steve didn’t want him anyway. He was a broken submissive, no dominant would ever want him. He curled on the floor fighting for air, shivering too hard to move any further.

After a while he vaguely heard Jarvis questioning him about something but he was too far in his head to answer. He came back to himself wrapped around someone, tears and snot smeared across his face as he sobbed. Hands soothed up and down his back just firm enough to be noticed without overwhelming him with the sensation.

He let himself drift for a while as the darkness slowly receded, his tears drying up. He frowned when he realized it was Steve he was curled against, Steve who was comforting him. That wasn’t right, Steve didn’t want him.

He struggled out of the confining arms and blankets, shoving himself away from where Steve had cocooned them on the floor. Steve watched him with arms open and palms raised to show he wasn’t about to attack, like anyone would think Captain America was harmless. Clint wiped shakily at his face trying to slow his racing heart.

“Back with us?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Clint muttered thickly, his voice wrecked.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again.” Steve said with a shaky laugh as he stood and started gathering up the blankets, “I came up to tell you dinner was ready and you were in a full drop. Everyone else was still out on missions or sleep.”

“Bruce still out?”

“Yeah, the Hulk took a lot out of him this time and Tony headed straight to Malibu to meet up with Pepper.”

“Natasha’s still out with Phil on a mission?”

“Yeah, last I heard they would be back in a few days.”

“Okay.” Clint nodded, wiping at his eyes one last time and forcing himself up.

“Do you know what forced you into a drop?”

“Just too many missions back to back, normally doesn’t happen but sometimes I drop when the adrenaline wears off.”

“Would it have helped if I stayed?”

“You didn’t want to stay.” Clint pointed out tiredly, walking to the kitchen and rooting around in the fridge for something to heat up.

“I did want to stay,” Steve said slowly coming to stand next to Clint, “I just wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

“I’m not your Sub, Cap. You don’t have to take care of me all the time.” Clint said shutting the fridge door and tossing a Tupper Ware container in the microwave, whatever it was he’d probably eaten worse.

“What if I wanted you to be my Sub?” Steve asked stepping forward and boxing Clint in against the countertop.

“You don’t.” Clint said freezing as Steve pressed against him.

“What if I did?”

“Why would you want me? I’m a bad submissive, no one wants a Sub that’s been used up and tossed aside.”

“I want you.” Steve said, slowly wrapping his arms around Clint’s waist, “I remember what happened while I was drugged. You gave yourself to me without a care for yourself. You dropped so fast, looking at me with those eyes full of trust that no matter what I did you would accept it. I’ve never seen a submissive give up everything like that.”

“I normally don’t like going that deep but I knew you couldn’t hurt me any worse than I’ve been hurt before.” Clint said with a shrug, shivering when Steve pressed a kiss to his jaw, “I don’t remember much after the first hour or so.”

“We’ll just have to do it again when you’re up so you can then.”

“What?” Clint asked shoving at Steve until he gave him some space.

“What’s the matter?”

“You want me while I’m up?”

“If you’re okay with that, yeah. I want you in my life, Clint. Up, down, half dead, and fighting by my side.”

“No one wants a Sub when they’re up.”

“I do.” Steve said stubbornly, “Who said we had to be normal anyway?”

“So even if we don’t have sex…”  
“I want to be here.” Steve said firmly, “If you want to go curl up together and sleep, we can do that to. I don’t do things half way, Clint. I want everything.”

“Even the crazy and bad parts?”

“Considering our job and the fact that we live in a tower with a robot butler, I think we can scratch normal off the list at this point. Our lives are always going to be crazy.”

“And the bad?”

“We try to make enough good parts to outpace the bad. The bad never really goes away, you just learn to work around it.” Steve said pressing a kiss to Clint’s forehead before the microwave beeped making them both jump. “Were you actually hungry?”

“No, just needed to move.” Clint said with a laugh.

“Want to curl up in bed and watch a movie with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” Clint said grinning as Steve ducked down and kissed him.

“Fair warning, I hang onto what’s mine. We do this, I’m in for the long haul.”

“I’ve never had anyone want to stay.” Clint said pressing against the other man’s chest, “Might take a while to get used to it.”

“Well, I’m here till the end of the line. You’ve got plenty of time to learn that.” Steve said with a laugh, taking Clint’s hand and pulling him into the bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my blog for more of my writing at  
> www.blueinkasides.wordpress.com  
> www.offthemarkandroaming.wordpress.com
> 
> Check out my Amazon Author page:  
> http://www.amazon.com/Amelia-Sides/e/B00GB070BA/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1


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